


Lend Me Your Hand

by eclecticallyinclined



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Cuddling, Los Angeles Kings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 10:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1171997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eclecticallyinclined/pseuds/eclecticallyinclined
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drew never thought this would become a <i>thing,</i> but it sort of has.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lend Me Your Hand

**Author's Note:**

> So, this just sort of...happened. It's been ages since I've written anything hockey related or posted anything, and this is my first time posting to AO3. It didn't turn out exactly as I had originally planned, and I'm not exactly happy with the flow of it all since it was written with some pretty big gaps in between sections. That being said, it is what it is and I am just happy it's done. What was meant to be a short something or other ended up with over 9k words. Oops.
> 
> I hope that it isn't too difficult to muddle through, and that it's at least somewhat enjoyable. :) Any typos or grammatical errors are my own.
> 
> Title from the song Awake My Soul by Mumford & Sons.

Mike loves to sleep.

That's one of the first things that Drew learns about him while they room together. Whether it's pregame naps, or catnaps on the plane, or just a regular night's sleep, Mike is always hard to drag back to consciousness when the time comes. Drew isn't exactly a morning person himself, but more than once he has had to resort to pulling all the blankets off of Mike's bed and then jumping on it to get his attention. Mike is actually pretty creative with his insults, even when he's grumpy and half asleep. Drew finds it pretty hilarious and he loves to recount them to the rest of the team whenever he can.

The first couple weeks Mike is on the team, most of the guys seem to still be getting a feel for him. Practically everyone in the hockey world knows how shit went down in Philly and how Mike got screwed and tossed out of town. Still, he seems to be settling in well and is eager to play and be a part of the team, so everyone relaxes around him and starts to really get to know him, treating him like someone they've known for years. Mike seems to appreciate it, so Drew joins right in, dragging Mike out to dinner and basketball games, talking incessantly about anything and everything during their evenings at various hotels.

Everyone gets a little stressed when they leave for Europe to start the season. They are excited, yes, but between the jet lag and the travel schedule and the fact that they know everyone has hyped up these few games, it wears on them a little bit. Thankfully, they are soon on their way back to the States with a few days to spare before they start with games in New Jersey and Philadelphia.

It takes a few days, but Drew notices that Mike gets quieter as the game in Philly gets closer. He can understand, he supposes. He really isn't sure what kind of reaction Mike is going to get from the fans. He knows that Mike was a favorite, was their captain, but it's not exactly a secret how fickle the Philadelphia crowd can be. Mike hides it well from the other guys, his worry - because Drew doesn't give a shit what he says, he knows Mike is worried - but Drew is able to see it at night in their hotel room. The biggest tell is that Mike doesn't immediately fall asleep the night before the game. He tosses and turns, quietly, but still enough that it catches Drew's attention.

Drew ends up falling asleep before Mike, and he's all but forgotten about it the next morning when he has to threaten Mike with a bucket of cold water to get him out of bed in time for breakfast. Everyone plays hard, because it's pretty obvious how much this game means to Mike, how much it means to him to show Philly what they lost. He gets a great reaction from the crowd at first, but the longer the game goes, it's like more and more of them start to turn. Drew breathes a sigh of relief when they manage to win it in OT, and no one mentions how Mike's smile is a little smug when he gets the assist on the game winner.

They don't fly out after the game, going back to the hotel for another night instead. Mike sleeps like a baby.

***

The season progresses, and while things don't always go according to plan, they know they have a good team, even if others don't realize it just yet. There are highs. They start the season decently enough, but there are lows, too, where they are frustrated over bad losses and too many blown leads. Drew learns to gauge Mike's moods by how well he sleeps, using the tossing and turning to figure out how edgy and restless the other man is.

The NHL36 cameras follow Mike around for a couple days pretty early on, which makes for no shortage of ribbing from the guys. Mike takes it all in stride, even though he isn't exactly the most comfortable guy when he's the center of attention. The crew trails along on a night where Mike and Drew go out for dinner, and Drew can tell that Mike is thankful for some of the attention to be off of him. He isn't sure what it means that he just _knows_ that Mike is tossing and turning at night, even though they aren't on the road right at the moment. Drew chooses to ignore that for the time being, instead being his usual cheerful self and giving Mike and all the other guys shit whenever he can.

Things start to take a turn for the worse once winter looms closer. Early in December, Mike ends up getting knocked out of a game with an "upper body injury," which really just means that he is having concussion symptoms but no one wants to call it a concussion. He can still be spotted around the locker room during practices, obviously annoyed that he can't get on the ice and skate with them, and he gets glared at by the trainers more than once when he tries to sneak into the weight room to do more than they'll allow.

Drew makes the most of having the hotel room to himself while Mike is out, though it isn't nearly as much fun with no one to annoy by being obnoxious and jumping on the bed. After three weeks, Mike is back and anxious to get back on the ice and things go back to normal.

They have trouble getting into a rhythm on the ice, seemingly winning only every other game. They have a small stretch where it seems like they can't even buy a goal, Quickie standing on his head only to have them lose in overtime or shootouts. They're all frustrated about it, knowing that they can play better, and it leads to a few tense moments in the locker room.

***

After his return, it's safe to say that Mike is snakebitten. He doesn't score, no matter how hard he tries, and it's starting to weigh on him. He tries to stay lighthearted in the locker room, because the team is having enough problems as it is, but Drew sees it at night, when the lights go out in their hotel room. On another east coast swing that sees them losing to the fucking Islanders in overtime on Mike's birthday and then flying out to Dallas immediately after for a game the next night, all Drew wants to do is sleep. He catches a little bit on the plane, and they're all a little bleary eyed as they check into the next hotel.

Drew strips down and falls into bed, almost falling asleep as soon as he hits the pillow, only Mike just will not settle the fuck down. He changes position about every thirty seconds, and after the third or fourth trip out of bed to the bathroom or over to rummage through his suitcase, Drew is considering smothering the asshole with his pillow to get some peace and quiet. He wearily sits up on the edge of his bed while he waits for Mike to return, glaring half-heartedly when the older man can't even meet his eyes and only spares him a glance.

As Mike moves to get back into his own bed Drew half tackles and shoves him down, half draped on top of Mike, who struggles a bit in confusion.

"Dude! What the fuck are you doing? Get off!" Mike exclaims, but Drew holds his ground.

"You need to knock it the fuck off and go to sleep, Richie," Drew grumbles, fighting off a yawn. "No more trips to the bathroom, no more rearranging your pillows and blankets, no more digging through your fucking suitcase. Just go. The fuck. To Sleep."

Mike is quiet for a long moment, long enough that Drew actually begins to drift off again.

"Drew - " Mike starts to say, trying to shrug Drew off of him, but Drew really can't be assed to move right now. He's too fucking exhausted, so if this is what it takes to get Mike to hold still long enough, then so be it.

"Fucking _sleep._ Now," Drew insists, shifting just enough so that his face isn't mushed into Mikes shoulder blade anymore before he passes out.

Mike doesn't move again for the rest of the night.

***

They don't talk about it the next morning. Drew is up before Mike is, anyway, like always. It isn't until he is leaving the bathroom after showering, scrubbing a towel over his hair, that Mike even begins to wake up. He groans a little and rubs at his eyes, yawning so hard that his jaw pops. He sits up and blinks a few times, and Drew can feel eyes on his back as he digs in his suitcase for a shirt, but Mike never says a word, just slides out of bed and shuffles into the bathroom.

They win that night, with Mike assisting on the game winner.

Things go from bad to worse after Dallas. They go home and drop a pair of 1-0 games at home, games where nothing seems to go right and they can't find the back of the net no matter what they do. The game after that in Phoenix turns into a complete shit show when they blow a three goal lead and lose in a shootout, followed by an ass kicking in Colorado. To say that nobody is happy is an understatement.

The next day, the Thursday before the deadline, the trade happens.

***

Everyone expects Mike to be happy about having Carter back on the same team, Drew included. They've been best friends for years, and Drew knows they still talk, because he catches snippets of their conversations now and then. Drew expects there to be a little apprehension from other guys in the locker room, because it's no secret that Carter has had his issues in Columbus, his attitude being the biggest part of it. What he doesn't expect is the hidden tension he sees on Mike's face after the news breaks.

He doesn't know if it is because he and Mike have gotten to be pretty good friends as the months have passed, or if it's from being in close quarters a lot while rooming together, or both, but Drew notices the slight clench of Mike's jaw as the buzz goes around the locker room. No one else sees it, so Drew doesn't say anything, either. No need to rock the boat, just in case.

Carter's first game is two days later at home against the Blackhawks. He doesn't come in and light up the scoreboard, but the guys seem pretty chill around him so Drew just goes with the flow. Brownie is the man of the hour anyway, single handedly kicking ass and for at least one night their spirits are lifted. As soon as the media clears out, Drew begins organizing a night out in celebration, not taking no for an answer from anyone. Carter gives him a cheerful yes right away, followed by a nod of agreement from Mike, though Drew pretends not to  
notice the way Mike's eyes follow after him as he walks away to badger the next group.

***

Drew sort of expects he'll lose his road roomie now that the BFF's are reunited, but he is pleasantly surprised when Mike follows him to their hotel room when they get to Nashville. They don't speak much as they get settled in, just small talk here and there as they change and get ready to meet the team for dinner. Things are pretty lighthearted during dinner, and Drew is all set to stay with the group for a beer or two when Mike begs off and goes back to the hotel.

He sits and thinks about that for a few minutes, wondering if things are really as rosy as they seem when Carter doesn't even spare Mike a second glance as he leaves. Of course, it's not like there's a rule somewhere that states the two of them have to be joined at the hip, but it just seems weird to Drew. He catches a few questioning looks from a couple of the other guys and he shrugs. Apparently he isn't the only one to notice the change.

He says his goodbyes and returns to the hotel also, hearing Mike in the shower when he gets back. He changes into a pair of sweatpants and flops onto his bed while grabbing the remote. He is flipping through the channels when Mike emerges with just a towel wrapped around his waist. He pauses, like he's surprised to see Drew.

"What are you doing here?"

Drew gives him a look. "My room, too."

Mike rolls his eyes at the typical smartass answer and moves to grab his clothes. "I thought you’d stayed behind with the guys."

Drew shrugs, settling on a movie that looks vaguely familiar, lots of explosions coloring the screen. "Was gonna. Decided to come back instead. Didn't want you to miss me too much," he says with a cheeky grin.

Mike rolls his eyes again and heads back to the bathroom to get dressed. "How can I miss you if you're never gone?" he calls over his shoulder as the door closes again.

They finish the movie together in relative silence, but Drew just _knows_ that it's going to be one of those nights for Mike. The other man can't hold still to save his life, jiggling his knees or shaking his feet, or messing around on his phone. He spends a good while texting with someone that makes him frown a little more at each incoming message. It's on the tip of Drew's tongue to ask if there is trouble in paradise, but he figures that will just set Mike off even more. Instead, he ignores it as best he can and tries to focus on the end of the movie.

After the movie ends and a few rounds of scanning the channels end with nothing interesting, they mutually decide to just kill the television and go to bed. Drew goes to the bathroom, brushes his teeth, plugs in his phone and makes sure the alarm is set, his typical nighttime routine. He settles into bed with a sigh, tugging his pillows into position and closes his eyes.

Mike takes over the bathroom when Drew is done, but he seems to be taking entirely too long and isn't making a sound. It's unnerving Drew just a little bit, and he grumbles to himself, because why should he give a shit how long Mike is in the bathroom anyway? He has the feeling that Mike is avoiding going to bed on purpose, that he is too cagey and anxious about something to be calm enough to sleep.

Drew is almost asleep when the bathroom door carefully opens, his eyes opening just as Mike reaches the end of his bed, making him freeze in his tracks.

"Oh. Sorry. Didn't mean to bother you," Mike says quietly, shifting his weight awkwardly.

Drew sighs and swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits up, pinning Mike with a pointed look without saying a word. Mike's eyes dart back and forth between his feet, Drew's face and his bed, looking like he is on the verge of blurting something out, only he doesn't let himself. It takes Drew a minute, but suddenly he gets it.

Standing up, Drew wraps a hand gently around Mike's arm and nudges him towards his bed. Mike sighs almost gratefully and lets Drew push him onto the bed and settle against him just like before. Drew feels Mike's breathing even out as he falls asleep, and it's easier for Drew to drift off than he thinks it will be, surprisingly comfortable and at ease.

***

Drew never thought this would become a _thing,_ but it sort of has. It doesn't happen after every game or anything, but a couple weeks later they are settling into a hotel room in Detroit after a quick flight from Columbus. They'd lost the game pretty miserably, getting outplayed for most of it, and the flight had been pretty subdued with the threat of missing the playoffs looming over their heads.

Peeling off his suit, Drew yawns loudly and scratches his stomach. "Fuck, I'm tired."

"Yeah. Me, too," Mike says quietly after a few moments. He has that look about him, but he’s trying to hide it.

Drew notices. How could he not, by this point? He sits on the edge of his bed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"Are we ever gonna talk about this?" he asks, and he isn't too proud to admit that he's a little satisfied by the fact that he catches Mike off guard enough to fumble with and nearly drop his phone.

"What are you talking about? Talk about what?" Mike asks, trying to keep his cool, but he's obviously a little flustered.

Drew waves a hand in Mike's general direction. "This. The fact that you get too worked up to sleep sometimes." He pauses as a sudden thought hits him and he hesitates before continuing. "If it's just because you're... _missing_...someone, or something, that's cool."

Mike screws up his face at that suggestion and sits heavily onto the edge of his bed, but on the end so he's not facing Drew. "Do we really have to talk about it?" he asks eventually.

Drew can be patient when he wants to be, so he just sits there and stares at Mike, knowing that the other man will break sooner or later and either talk or throw something at Drew. He's hoping for the former, but he'll deal with the latter if it comes to that. Besides, it's not like it would be the first time he's had to wrestle Mike down.

His persistence pays off, because Mike eventually groans quietly and rubs his face. "Look. It's not... sometimes I just have trouble sleeping, okay? Like, I'm exhausted, but I can't shut my mind off enough to just fucking _sleep._ Having someone there... it helps. Gives me something else to focus on." Mike doesn't exactly look happy to have admitted all of this to anyone, especially the man he has essentially been cuddling with off and on for the last month or so.

There is a big part of Drew that would love nothing more than to tease Mike mercilessly about this, because honestly, this is such a juicy piece of blackmail. The haggard look on the older man's face stops the words before they can even fully form, though. There is another part of Drew that can understand the idea, how having a calming presence around can help. So instead of mocking Mike, he shrugs in acceptance and stands to go and use the bathroom again.

"Okay."

After he has peed and washed his hands, he comes back into the main room to find Mike already in bed, though Drew can tell he's not actually asleep yet. Drew considers his options for a moment. On one hand, things are probably all sorts of weird now that they have actually talked about shit, so he could probably just slide into his own bed with no questions asked. On the other... well, Drew is a good friend, okay? He's helpful and shit, when he wants to be.

Drew crosses the room and stands next to Mike's bed for a second, hesitating just long enough to give Mike enough time to object. He gets nothing, so he lifts the covers and slides into the bed behind Mike. Just as he's getting comfortable, Mike ups the ante on him, turning over so he's on his other side, facing Drew.

He is the one who is surprised now, and he tries not to let it show.

"I'm sorry," Mike murmurs quietly, staring down in between their chests.

Drew just shakes his head and pulls the blankets up a little higher. "It's okay."

"Do you want me to..." Mike waves a hand back over his own shoulder, asking Drew if he wants him to turn back around so they aren't facing each other.

Instead of answering directly, Drew lets his forehead bump gently against Mike's as he closes his eyes. "Just go the fuck to sleep,  
Richie."

***

Just when their playoff hopes are about dead, shit finally starts clicking and they win their next six games. They go back on the road for their last four games of March, swinging up into western Canada. They lose a brutal 1-0 game to the Canucks, and it drags them all down a little because they had actually been scoring lately. 

They stay in the city for the night, which Drew is grateful for. He kicks off his shoes and flops facedown onto his bed, yawning and wrapping his arms around one of the pillows. Mike snorts from across the room where he is changing, but Drew just flicks him off. He's fucking exhausted, okay? He's been playing his ass off lately, like he can single handedly propel them into a playoff position if he tries hard enough, and losses like this hurt.

He actually dozes a little until Mike nudges at his shoulder. He grunts out a response, not even wanting to open his eyes.

"Go change before you fall asleep in your suit," Mike tells him, sounding amused. Drew grunts again and Mike just starts poking at him incessantly until Drew swears at him and swings an arm out, missing Mike by a good margin. He hauls himself off the bed and stumbles into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

When he comes out, Mike is finishing up a phone call, glancing over at him as he says goodbye. Drew fall into bed again, sprawled on his stomach, and he's so tired that it takes him a minute to realize his blankets are moving. He makes a questioning sound and goes to turn his head, but Mike shushes him as he slides in behind Drew. He drapes himself across Drew's back and pulls the covers up, but he is a little tense like he expects Drew to push him away.

It's sort of strange at first, being on the other side of this... situation, but Drew just closes his eyes again and sinks into the bed. If Mike can accept it, so can he. He feels Mike relax against him a moment later, and Drew has the brief thought that Mike apparently knows what he's talking about because he has no trouble falling asleep with the warm, solid weight behind him.

***

They win two days later in Calgary, and then again two days after that in Edmonton where Mike scores a beauty of a shorthanded goal and Drew scores a goal himself. Carter doesn't play against the Oilers because he has some foot injury that Mike rolls his eyes about, because this is apparently a _thing_ with Jeff now.

Even with these couple wins, they are all a little stressed about the playoffs. There are only a few games left in the season, and it seems like every day they are either in the eighth spot, or on top of the Pacific Division, or out of the race completely. It's pretty draining, to have all of their hopes based on so few games where so much could go wrong, as well as dependent on how other teams do, too.

They fly into Minnesota right after the Edmonton game for another game the next night, and since things went so well Drew is surprised when Mike hesitates next to his bed, glancing over at him. He lifts an eyebrow in question, which makes Mike look away, but Drew just rolls onto his back, leaving enough room for Mike to slide in next to him. It's not their usual position, but Drew is comfortable and can't be assed to move, so Mike is just going to have to deal.

Things are quiet for a few minutes and Drew is almost asleep when Mike speaks quietly. "I'm having a wicked case of deja vu right now," he admits.

Drew opens his eyes and turns a bit to look at Mike curiously.

"Two years ago," is Mike's answer. "We didn't make the playoffs until the last game of the season, and we had to win a fucking shootout to do it." Drew knows how this story ends, as well as anyone else does, how the Flyers had barely scraped their way into the playoffs and fought their way to the end just to lose it all against the Blackhawks.

He doesn't really know what to say in response, so he just turns onto his side and throws an arm around Mike and closes his eyes again. This has worked well enough so far for comfort, so Drew just goes with what he knows. Mike doesn't seem to want anything else, just relaxes into him and falls asleep.

***

The season ends a week later and the Kings are in the playoffs. Eighth seeded and set to play the President's Trophy winning Canucks, but they fucking _made_ it. Drew is thrilled to be going to Vancouver rather than the golf course. The atmosphere on the plane is lighter and happier than it's been in a long damn time, and they are all anxious to get this shit moving. They know that the odds are stacked against them and no one expects them to go far, but Drew knows this team isn't going down without a fight.

They win Game 1. Then Game 2. Before any of them can even breathe, they are up three games to none and the "experts" are changing their tunes in a hurry. They lose Game 4, but pull out an overtime win in Game 5 that sends them pouring out onto the ice, screaming into the second round.

Spirits are high in St. Louis, especially after they take Game 1. Drew happily falls into bed, feeling like all is right with the world right now. Mike is in a similar position on his own bed, and when Drew looks over, Mike is looking back and they share a brief smile.

"Pretty fucking awesome, eh?" Mike asks him.

"Only gonna get better from here," Drew replies, laughing when Mike tosses his pillow at him and tells him not to fucking jinx it. Drew just tucks the pillow under his own head with a grin.

Eventually they get ready for bed and Drew is digging through his bag for his phone charger, making a noise of triumph when he pulls it free. When he turns around, Mike is sitting on the edge of his bed - _Drew's_ bed - looking a little nervous.

"Is this...is this okay?" Mike stutters out quietly without meeting Drew's eyes. Drew watches him for a long moment. It takes him a few seconds, but when he really looks, he can see how much Mike is feeling the pressure to do well, to _win_ this time. So even though they _have_ been winning, the pressure on them all just keeps growing and Drew knows that they have to find a way to deal with it somehow.

Drew nods, walking back over to the bed. "Yeah, it's fine." He plugs his phone in and doesn't bother setting the alarm since they have a free morning ahead of them. He waits for Mike to slide into the bed first, the follows after, getting comfortable with the now familiar presence of Mike beside him.

***

Drew wakes up sometime early in the morning and he instantly knows that something is different. It takes him a minute to wake up enough to figure out just what is different, but it doesn't take long, not when Mike is curled up against his chest, sound asleep. Drew's got one arm wrapped around him, and the whole thing is just so fucking _intimate_ that he really doesn't know how to react. What had started as Drew finding a way to make Mike sleep at night has somehow turned into them in bed together, _cuddling._

His mind races a little at that, because seriously, what the fuck. He knows that everyone has their own little quirks and neurotic _whatevers_ to get them from one game to the next. He just never expected to be a part of anything like this. Cuddling with a teammate is a new one to him.

***

He ends up falling back to sleep before he can _really_ freak out about it too much more. When he wakes up again, the sun is shining and he's alone in bed. Drew automatically looks over to Mike's empty bed - which, really, he knew it would be empty because the shower is running - his eyes focused on the neatly made bed for a minute before his stomach growls and he glances at the clock. Breakfast time. 

The water cuts off then and Drew sits up and reaches for his phone. He's got a text from one of the other guys asking if they want to get breakfast soon. He replies yes, glancing up when the bathroom door opens, Mike's eyes meeting his. Neither of them says anything for a moment before Drew gestures to his phone.

"Breakfast? Some of the others are going."

"Sure," Mike murmurs, moving to dig for clothes. Drew takes the opportunity to escape to the bathroom for his own shower.

Drew sort of expects the rest of the morning to be awkward, but it is surprisingly...not. He and Mike interact with each other the same way they always do. Mike is as relaxed as he usually is off the ice, and Drew is relieved by it all. It wouldn't do to have some kind of rift form between them at this point in the season.

***

They win Game 2 easily enough before heading back to LA for Games 3 and 4. Game 3 is pretty fucking awesome, Drew has to admit. He watches with everyone else as Mike ends up getting into a fight with Langenbrunner, almost directly in front of him on the bench. It isn't much of a fight either way, but it's an energy boost all the same.

Drew and Mike each score goals, each assisting on the other’s, and they end up as first and second stars of the game, respectively. Spirits are high, and someone coordinates a late dinner that about half of them agree to go to. It's a couple hours after the game when Drew finds himself next to Mike at their table, the rest of the guys not paying them any mind.

"Fucking Gordie Howe, man," Drew says, grinning a bit as he nudges Mike.

Mike laughs a little and shrugs. "No big deal."

That makes Drew roll his eyes a little. "Dude, don't be so fucking modest. You kicked ass tonight."

_"You're_ the one that was first star," Mike shoots back.

"Okay, fine. _We_ kicked ass tonight," Drew amends with an easy grin, finishing the last of the beer he'd ordered with dinner. Mike just laughs and nods, nudging Drew in return.

"Fucking right, we did."

***

Game 4 is an uphill battle from the start. They are clinging to a 2-1 lead after the first period, and it doesn't get any easier from there. St. Louis outplays them six ways from Sunday for the rest of the game. Quickie is in beast mode, standing on his head for them through it all. When Brownie sinks an empty-netter late in the third, Kopitar skates down the ice and tackles him while the rest of them flip their shit on the bench, because they just fucking swept the Blues.

***

It's a full week before their first game in Phoenix. On one hand, Drew is grateful for the break, they _all_ are, but on the other, he's just itching to get back to playing by the time they land in Phoenix.

They unload at the hotel, the heat stifling as they drag their bags inside. Once they are in their room, Mike flops onto his bed while Drew strips off his suit jacket and cranks up the A/C.

"It's too fucking hot here," Mike complains in a muffled groan. "We're not gonna be able to skate, 'cause it's just gonna be one big puddle."

Drew laughs a little as he kicks off his shoes. "We can be the Los Angeles Kings Water Polo team instead," he suggests.

Mike snorts and turns his head to look at Drew. "We'll be the first polo team to play in just a few inches of water."

"Exactly!" Drew exclaims. "We'll be revolutionary!"

Mike laughs and rolls his eyes. "You get right on that and let me know how it works out for you, dude."

Drew makes a mock-offended sound, then launches onto Mike's bed, making the older man bounce and groan.

"Jesus, you weigh a fucking ton!" Mike complains, shoving Drew off of him before punching his arm. "Asshole."

"Aw, I love you, too," Drew replies with a shit-eating grin. That starts a wrestling match that they both give up on too quickly, because it's still too fucking hot out for that shit. Drew just grabs one of Mike's pillows and bunches it under his head.

"We should go swimming," he muses, though he isn't feeling very motivated to get up just yet. Mike just hums in response, his eyes closed. Drew glances over and studies Mike's face for a moment, taking in the relaxed features, the scruffy beard, the mussed up curls that are longer than usual. He doesn't say anything, just watches, and he has the vague thought that the two of them in bed together is becoming a habit. Then he falls asleep before it goes any further.

***

They win Game 1 without too much excitement. There's a free day in between games, though it's still too damn hot to be outside for any great length of time. They all go out for a team dinner, early enough that they can all have a couple drinks while they eat.

Everyone leaves in groups and by the time Drew gets back to their room, Mike is already dressed for bed and sitting up against the headboard – in Drew's bed - watching a movie on TV. Drew goes into the bathroom to change, wondering if maybe they should eventually talk about this more, but he's got just enough beer in him to not care all that much. He pees and brushes his teeth, then comes out to flop on the bed next to Mike.

"What're we watchin'?" he asks as he slides under the covers.

"No idea," Mike replies, "But I'm pretty sure that dude is either some kind of spy, or maybe an alien. I haven't decided yet."

Drew laughs, glancing at the channel logo in the corner of the screen. "Well, it _is_ the SyFy channel. Anything it possible."

They both settle in to watch the rest of the movie, which is, admittedly, pretty terrible. It's not even that late when they both fall asleep, slumped towards each other. Drew wakes up a few hours later and turns the television off, curling back up on his side facing Mike, who had taken up the same position at some point.

Drew thinks about this whole situation and how they've barely talked about it beyond that first time. He can't imagine doing this with anyone else, any of the other guys, but here he is with Mike, and it's practically become _normal_ for them while on the road.

Mike shifts slightly in his sleep, curling up a little closer. Drew tugs the blankets up over Mike's shoulders, his hand resting there for a long moment. After a quick glance at the clock, he closes his eyes again and starts to drift off. His only movement for the rest of the night is to shift closer to the warm body next to him.

***

Game 2 is the next evening and the Kings come out with a solid 4-0 win. They win Game 3 at home in LA, and the next night Drew scores courtside seats to the Lakers game and drags Mike with him. It doesn’t take much to convince Mike to go, which oddly pleases Drew. One of the other guys chirps him about going on a man-date with Mike, which Drew would ordinarily just laugh at and maybe play up a little just to be an obnoxious little shit, but there’s a little something more to it now. He decides his best bet is to ignore any and all thoughts like that and just enjoy himself. Which he does, because he and Mike are teammates and friends. Buddies. No more, no less.

All his good feelings from the last few days come to a screeching halt with Game 4. Nothing seems to be working for them. Passes don't connect, and even though they have multiple opportunities, their power play sucks. It's an awful game all around, and while nobody is quite eager to go back to Phoenix and its god-awful heat, they're all pretty upbeat because they've still got a 3-1 lead in the series.

Everyone stays pretty low-key for the day, guys breaking off in small groups for dinner or just staying in. Drew and Mike opt to stay in, ordering room service and avoiding the heat. Mike orders a movie for them to watch, and as the sun goes down, they start getting ready for bed.

When Mike moves towards Drew's bed to settle in for the night, Drew can't control his tongue.

"Are we ever gonna talk about this?" he asks, then internally cringes when Mike freezes in place.

"If you'd rather I use the other bed..." Mike murmurs, standing there awkwardly.

"No!" Drew exclaims, feeling like he sounds a little too eager. "No, that's not what I meant," he says, quieter.

Mike sighs and sits on the edge of the bed. "What do you want to talk about?"

Drew moves to sit next to Mike. "I know we sort of talked about it at first, but…"

"Nothing has really changed," Mike murmurs. "It's...it's a comfort thing. Being this far into the playoffs, being this close again...it's stressful. You know that. I worry about shit that I have no control over and then I can't fucking sleep. This...it gives me the chance to focus on something else. It distracts me from all the bullshit."

Drew thinks about all that, can still understand the need for it, especially at a time like this. It's only going to get harder from here, and now is not the time for any of them to fall apart.

"Have you - did you have this before? Last time?" Drew finds himself asking. Mike gives a half-hearted shrug, not meeting Drew's eyes.

"Sort of."

Drew weighs his options before he responds and takes a gamble. "Carter?"

Mike tenses but doesn't deny it, giving a jerky nod eventually, glancing up and catching Drew's eyes for a brief moment.

"Didn't work out?"

"No. He - no."

Drew doesn't want to pry, because he can tell that Mike doesn't want to hash out whatever shit had gone down with Carter. He gets that there's a lot of history there. He just nods in understanding, nudging Mike's knee with his own.

"I haven't minded it at all. In fact, it's been kind of nice," Drew admits, a little quieter than usual. "I get why it helps you."

Mike seems to relax a little, offering Drew a small smile. "Thanks."

Drew throws an arm around Mike's shoulders, giving him a squeeze. "You know I got your back, Richie."

Mike rolls his eyes and gives Drew an elbow in the stomach, but he smiles and doesn't move away.

***

Game 5 is tight. The Kings are fighting to get to the Finals and the Coyotes are fighting just to play another day. Both teams are flying, trying desperately to gain every inch that they can. Drew scores in the second, Mike following with a goal of his own just a few minutes later.

In spite of their best efforts, the game goes to OT. They try and refocus during intermission, because there is absolutely no reason why they can't win this. It's getting down to the point where they're starting to think that it's going to take another period to finish this when Penner scores. The bench erupts, the whole team pouring out onto the ice to celebrate. They are jumping around and hugging each other, all of them shouting in excitement.

They are herded over to go through the handshake line with the Coyotes, then they're all standing around waiting for everything to be set up, hats being passed around proclaiming them the Western Conference champs. Drew can hardly believe it. He's going to be playing in the fucking Stanley Cup Finals.

The Campbell Bowl is presented to Brownie and there's the usual hype - does he touch it, does he not. He doesn't, and Drew is sort of happy about that. He's not overly superstitious, but why tempt fate?

The celebration moves into the locker room where the alcohol is flowing, guys wasting no time breaking out the champagne. It doesn't take long before they are all soaked from sweat and booze. The media finally clear out and Drew finds himself with a half full bottle of champagne as he surveys the room. Mike is sitting in front if his stall, laughing at a couple of the other guys as they screw around across the room.

Drew walks over and sits next to Mike, taking a drink from the bottle he's carrying around before offering it to the older man. Mike takes it and takes a few long swallows, sighing softly.

"Deja vu, man."

Drew laughs softly and nods. "Yeah, man, I bet."

Mike is quiet for a minute, then takes another drink. "I gotta say, I'm glad Brownie didn't fucking touch it."

Drew laughs louder and reaches over to scrub a hand through Mike's hair. "Learned from your mistakes, eh?"

Mike gives him a grin and punches his leg. "Something like that," he says wryly, taking another drink before handing the bottle back to Drew.

Drew takes a drink, too, noticing the way that Mike gets a little lost in thought. Someone calls Drew's name from across the room and beckons him over. He nods, then turns back to Mike, throwing an arm around his neck and dragging him in close.

"We are gonna win the fucking Cup," he murmurs into Mike's ear, and he just knows it, can feel it deep down inside. He lays a smacking kiss onto Mike's cheek before he can think about it too much, gives him a little squeeze, then he takes his bottle and walks away.

***

They have eight days off from games while the Eastern Conference figures itself out. They have practice, they rest, try and recover from some of the wear and tear they've been inflicting on their bodies.

When things are all straightened out and New Jersey wins the East, they start strategizing, turning to the guys that have played the Devils more. They watch some tape, run a lot of drills, talk a lot about the Devils’ system and how to get around it and spirits are pretty high as they head East.

They win Game 1 in OT. Then Game 2, also in OT. Drew is pretty fucking proud of the goal he scores, unassisted, skating from one end of the ice to the other with the puck and neatly putting it past Brodeur. He lets out a scream when it crosses the line, because he just beat fucking _Brodeur._

Game 3 is a 4-0 win. They get Gagne back from a concussion after being out since the end of December. Drew catches Mike huddled in a corner of the locker room with him before and after the game. He feels a spike of... _something_ in his stomach, which he quickly shoves aside, because fuck that. He's got no reason to be jealous. Richie and Gags have been friends and teammates longer than Drew has been in the league.

They lose Game 4, though it's close up until the very end. Most of the guys are still upbeat that they'll come out with a better effort for the next game. Things just aren't in their favor, though, because they drop Game 5, their first road loss of the whole playoffs. No matter how hard they try, Brodeur is a wall, stoning Mike with only seconds left.

Not only is it their first road loss, it's the first tine they've lost two games in a row since the playoffs started. The group is much more somber as they go back to the hotel. There's not a lot of talking, and Mike is basically silent. He disappears into the bathroom as Drew falls onto his bed, kicking off his shoes. He turns on the television and works on stripping out of his suit.

It isn't until he's completely changed and halfway through some sitcom that he realizes that the bathroom has been completely silent the entire time that Mike has been in there. He frowns, hesitating for a long moment before he stands and goes over to the closed door.

"Richie?" Drew asks, rapping his knuckles quietly against the wood a couple times.

It takes a minute, but Mike eventually answers. "Yeah."

Drew considers asking if the other man is okay, but tries the doorknob instead. It's unlocked.

Mike is sitting on the floor against the bathtub. His suit jacket is off and in a heap by the sink, his tie loose around his neck. Drew leans against the doorframe.

"Hey."

"Hey," Mike replies quietly, scrubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. "Sorry, I just -" 

Drew waves him off. "It's okay. I get it."

And he does, but only to an extent. Drew gets that they've been basically cruising through the playoffs and that this is the first they've really felt a little bit of doubt. He can't quite understand the pressure Mike feels though, whether people actually are watching him that closely, or whether Mike is just putting that pressure on himself. Drew suspects the latter, but either way, he's seen the way it's affected Mike, has been there through the whole thing, since the beginning of the season.

After they've both been silent for a few minutes, Drew takes the few steps over to Mike, holding a hand out to help him up.

"Come on," he murmurs softly. Mike looks up and eventually takes his hand, letting Drew tug him to his feet.

It's not a very big bathroom, so they end up standing too close together for a second before Drew says fuck it and pulls Mike into a hug. Mike tenses at first and Drew thinks he's going to pull away. Drew just holds on a little tighter, feeling pleased when Mike sags against him.

Drew rubs Mike's back a little, his hand sliding up to cup the back of Mike's neck. Mike's hands fist in the fabric at the back of Drew's shirt, his head down, forehead resting on Drew's shoulder. Neither of them say anything, not for a long time.

Drew eventually pulls back a little, his forehead gently bumping against Mike's temple. "Hey. Why don't you go get changed, yeah? We'll get some sleep and we'll all feel better in the morning."

Mike nods, but it still takes him a minute to actually move, sighing and rubbing his face as he pulls away from Drew. He slips out of the bathroom, already unbuttoning his shirt as he shuffles over to his suitcase.

Drew closes the door and runs through his nighttime routine, brushing his teeth with one hand braced against the counter, thinking about things. When he comes out a few minutes later, Mike has changed and slips past him back into the bathroom to take care of his own routine.

By the time Mike returns, Drew has turned down the blankets and is sitting up against the headboard, television off, messing around on his phone. Mike fusses with plugging in his phone and setting the alarm, which is on his side of the bed. That thought makes Drew pause for a second, because holy shit, they actually _have_ sides of the bed in this arrangement.

The movement of Mike sliding into bed shakes Drew from his thoughts. He looks over just in time to watch Mike tug the blankets up and curl up at Drew's side. Drew feels a warmth run through him as he watches Mike get comfortable beside him.

He puts his phone down, leaning over Mike a bit to put it on the nightstand. When he settles down under the covers, he slides an arm around Mike, shifting close. Drew lets himself really _think_ about this situation they've created between them. He's not completely inexperienced with guys, but it's been years since it's happened. It's not even like anything has really happened with Mike. Just...cuddling.

Drew wonders what he would do if it ever went any further than this, and, surprisingly, it's not a terrible thought. He likes Mike, they're good friends, close in a way that Drew can't imagine being with any of the other guys.

He wonders what Mike would do if he tried anything, if he'd get shot down gently or punched in the face, or even if Mike would be willing. Drew shifts slightly as he thinks about that, Mike's voice cutting through the quiet.

"You're thinking too loud. Go to sleep," Mike murmurs sleepily, wiggling a bit closer to Drew, getting comfortable.

"Sorry," Drew replies in the same quiet tone. He rubs at Mike's lower back in apology, and he doesn't let himself think anymore as he kisses Mike's forehead, then rests his own against the same spot.

Mike doesn't say anything, or even move, but Drew can feel a shift between them all the same. He doesn't even try to analyze it before he drifts off.

***

Two days later, back in LA, The Cup is theirs.

Both teams come out flying, desperate for a win. Nothing too exciting happens to start, but when Bernier takes out Scuds, they all get pissed and channel everything they have into the game, scoring three times during the five minute major.

It's at that point that Drew _knows_ they're going to win. A couple hours later they are all in the locker room, soaked with sweat and champagne and beer and god knows what else, and Drew has never been happier in his life. Everything is in a state of chaos, too many people crammed into the locker room and surrounding areas.

He makes his way around the room, hugging everyone, practically tackling Quickie, giving him a big smacking kiss on the forehead. Quickie laughs and hugs Drew, then shoves him away. Drew goes, grabbing another beer, stopping when a hand curls around his arm.

"Can I talk to you?" Mike asks, leaning in so Drew can hear him above the crowd. Drew nods, gesturing for Mike to go ahead. Mike glances around, shaking his head, tugging Drew away from everyone and into one of the trainer's rooms.

The door closes behind them and Drew is momentarily grateful for the way it muffles the noise. He watches Mike, unable to stop the grin that spread across his face.

"We fucking _did_ it."

Mike grins back, his eyes bright with happiness and disbelief. "You told me we would," he murmurs back with a laugh.

Drew laughs and reaches for Mike, pulling him in for a tight hug. It's not the first they've shared since the final buzzer, but there is something different about it now. Mike holds on just as tightly, clutching at Drew's shirt.

"I can't believe it," Mike says, the shock of it all still coloring his voice. Drew laughs softly and pulls back enough to rest their foreheads together.

"Believe it," he replies. "We wouldn't have done it without you," he adds, and Drew really believes that, even if nobody else agrees with him.

Mike snorts softly like he doesn't believe it himself, but he smiles. Drew smiles back and before he can say anything else, Mike kisses him.

Drew's first instinct is to freeze, but really, so much has led them to this moment that he isn't terribly surprised. Mike shifts and pulls back, not meeting Drew's eyes.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," Mike stammers. "I just -"

"Mike. Shut up," Drew interrupts him with a fond eye roll and a smile, then hauls the other man back in for another kiss. Mike tenses this time, but only for a second before he sinks into Drew with a sigh.

The kiss breaks after a few minutes, though both of them are unwilling to step apart just yet.

"Thank you," Mike says softly after a moment, breaking their silence.

"For what?" Drew asks curiously.

Mike doesn't really have an answer at first, but his eyes say so much when they reach Drew's and he murmurs, "Everything."

Drew looks into Mike's eyes and he gets it - it's a thank you for the support, the friendship, the acceptance. Their nights spent together, the comfort, and even this moment, right now.

Drew smiles and leans in for another kiss, Mike meeting him halfway, and it's actually pretty fucking awesome that he gets to do this. Kissing Mike is a whole different experience, especially like this, with the beard and given just how disgusting they probably both are right now.

Drew wouldn't change a fucking thing.

They slip back out to the party soon after and go their separate ways for now. Drew doesn't see Mike much, but he catches sight of him later, grouped together with Carts and Gags, and it makes Drew smile to know that, in a way, they all got the last laugh.

***

The next couple days are a blur. There are bars, and booze, and TV appearances, and more booze, and a trip to Dodger Stadium, and then finally the parade. Pretty much all of them are either half drunk or hungover for it, or some part of both, but they are all as giddy as goddamn kids through it all.

Drew ends up riding on a truck with Mike, Carter and Penner for the parade. He's a little surprised when Mike plants himself next to Drew on the end of the line, but he smiles and bumps their shoulders together. They're mostly all clean-shaven again, looking relatively normal, and Drew tries not to let himself wonder what it would be like to kiss Mike now.

He's not sure if that was a one-time deal, heat of the moment kind of thing or not, and now is not exactly the time to ask.

The parade is a blast, filled with so much laughter and yelling and cheering, the crowd taking pictures and videos of them while they are all doing the same to the crowd.

As they reach the end of the route and climb down off the trucks, Drew loses sight of Mike as he gets pulled into a conversation about the upcoming Vegas trip. They're all excited for it, especially the younger guys, Drew included. He wants to make this party last as long as possible.

He catches Mike's eye from across the lot, drifting away from the crowd and towards the older man. Mike does the same, meeting him halfway.

"Can you believe this?" Drew asks with a laugh, gesturing back to where the parade had ended.

Mike laughs and shakes his head. "Unreal. All of it. Better than I could've imagined." His eyes connect with Drew's when he says that, and there's something behind them that Drew can't decipher just yet.

"The fun isn't over yet," Drew replies, and yeah, he knows that's kind of an open statement and that he’s basically flirting now.

Mike just grins a little, studying Drew for a moment before he speaks again.

"Got a roommate for Vegas?"

Drew can't stop himself from grinning in return, shaking his head. "Nope. You?"

Mike just shrugs and gives Drew a bright smile as he starts to walk away backwards. "I do now," he says before he turns around and saunters away.

Oh yeah. Drew can't fucking _wait_ for Vegas.


End file.
